the death of marat safin

This is the very hilarious and witty name of my French Open team at Tennis For Free's fantasy grand slam site. I've done solidly enough, though I will lose my mini-league by about four points.

The interesting thing I got interested in twenty minutes ago was this: Robin Soderling, in spite of obviously being a good player, is a surprise finalist. Who, I wondered, had been sharp enough to spot his potential and how far had such astute characters benefited? I started clicking through teams. It soon became obvious that the main qualification for knowing enough about tennis that you might pick a good fantasy team was realising that you shouldn't pick Robin Soderling. I clicked on, and the further, and then on. It became apparent that basically only a moron or someone at random might pick him. I clicked further, well into the second half of the overall table and the dark end of the carpal tunnel stress spectrum. Finally I hit on Lisa's Legends, languishing in the 200s, though due for a boost tomorrow, because she also has Roger Federer. I looked at the rest of her team. It seemed ok. Maybe there is luck in fantasy tennis. Except all those non-soderlings higher up surely cannot lie.